Three Days Later
by MagPie003
Summary: Duke has an apology to make.  Another take on how they could've patched things up after 2x10.


The lights in the upstairs apartment had been off for several hours before Duke finally mustered the nerve. As quietly as possible, he crept up the stairs to leave a small pastry box outside her door. Audrey would find it in the morning when she left for work. After ensuring that the words written on top of the box were facing in the right direction, he silently descended the staircase. Each step downward added to the weight in his chest. There was just no way that this was going to work. Sure, there were certain situations where a small token could pave the way to a reconciliation. Florists and jewelers made a fortune daily off of some poor idiot who was late for a date, forgot a birthday, or had made the deadly mistake of admitting that an outfit actually did make a woman's rear end look big. However, there were some situations that they just couldn't help with: Pretty petals couldn't blot out the memory in her mind of him pointing a gun at her partner. A shiny bauble couldn't offset letting her think he'd sided with everything she stood against. A card with pretty words in a flowery script couldn't take away him angrily telling her that she was the reason he had nothing.

Yellow cupcakes with purple frosting and extra sprinkles would never cover breaking her trust.

Duke knew all of this. However, after three days of silence he was willing to try anything. It was an attempt to get a foot in the door. Even if she threw the box back in his face before shooting him, it would still be a chance to face her. A chance to tell her just how sorry he was and how he'd give anything to go back and change it all.

Thinking he wouldn't be able to sleep even if he went back to his boat, he chose to stretch out on the couch in his office. At some point, he proved himself wrong by dozing enough to dream. Instead of maze tattoos, the ocean, or Evie slipping away in his arms, the only thing that haunted him was a pair of blue eyes. As the grey light of dawn came into the window, Duke woke feeling more exhausted than when he lay down. He set the coffee brewing and scrawled the daily special on the chalkboard. Then, he sat at the bar and pretended to care about the newspaper's cross word puzzle. Once the morning manager came, he'd slink back to his boat.

The doors opened softly about an hour before he'd expect them to. At first, he thought that his manager had come early to get some tidying done. Looking up, he found this wasn't the case. Audrey Parker was standing in his doorway, ready for work, holding a travel mug.

"Good morning." He greeted carefully.

"Hi," she answered, just as carefully, stepping towards him, "look, I'm out of coffee again upstairs. Can I nab some of yours before I head into work?"

"Sure." Duke said, taking her mug and going over to the ready pot. Okay. She didn't think he was patronizing her or bribing her. Now, he just had to make her coffee and then they'd talk. That wasn't so hard, right?

"Have you had any breakfast?" He asked as he added some milk before replacing the mug's cover.

"I'm all set on that, actually." Audrey replied as he came back around. "There was a little surprise for me this morning when I stepped out."

"Right." He nodded, handing over the mug without meeting her gaze.

"It was from someone with terrible handwriting." She continued, taking one of the nearby stools. "Thankfully, he wrote in a large enough print for me to understand the message."

"You did?" He asked, finally looking her in the face. None of the anger or condemnation he'd feared were in those beautiful eyes that had haunted his dreams.

"Loud and clear." She affirmed softly, laying a hand on his arm.

"Audrey, I-when-"

His stammering was cut off as Audrey pulled him against her in a fierce hug. Duke stiffened for a moment before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his head on top of hers. Shock, relief, and emotional exhaustion overrode all his carefully planned words of apology. It was a few moments before he trusted himself to speak. When he finally did, all he could choke out were the first three words he'd scribbled onto the pastry box the night before.

"I'm so sorry."

_A/N: This was originally written as a chapter for my cupcake series. I cut it because it seemed to "heavy" for a set of fluffy one shots. However, it still stared forlornly at me every time I opened my notebook. Therefore, I decided to share it anyway._


End file.
